


Fighting with doesn’t always mean fighting for

by ChipperChemical



Series: Hermitcraft stuff [2]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Fluff, Joe Keralis and Bdubs are mentioned but not really important, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, My pen is clean, Oh also EX and Helsknight are mentioned, does anyone actually know how to tag?, ethdoc is kind of underrated, fluff but kind of angsty, i can’t write Doc nor Etho, i put way too much detail into the kissing scene, sorry gang, tough boys are tough but sometimes soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:14:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24742909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChipperChemical/pseuds/ChipperChemical
Summary: Etho was the go-to Hermit for anything you needed: gardening, pest removal, ice, anything!Even murder, NPG discovers.
Relationships: Etho/Steffen Mossner | Docm77
Series: Hermitcraft stuff [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2181648
Comments: 4
Kudos: 93





	Fighting with doesn’t always mean fighting for

**Author's Note:**

> This is vaguely based on a oneshot by @/The_Guestinator on Wattpad! Just read and enjoy!

The blue shine of the diamond sword reflected against his face, its purple glow softly illuminating his white-knuckled hand. Etho looked to the grinning Hermit (could he be considered a Hermit?), concern flickering in his eyes.

“You want me to do this.” It was more of a statement than a question, but NPC Grian nodded anyway, far too enthusiastically.

“Yes. You’re a good fighter, Etho, your scars prove it.” Etho subconsciously raised a gloved hand to his right eye, outlining the scar with his index finger, “You’re the only one I can ask here, and I want it done as soon as possible. You’ll be paid generously, so don’t disappoint.”

With that, the half-robot took off, spreading his stolen elytra and disappearing beyond the skyline. Staring with his blank expression, Etho looked from his sword back to the sky, weighing his options — well, he did value money over ethics at the moment, after all. The choice was made, and he paced into his base, digging through his organised chaos of a storage system and getting his tools prepared.

The next few minutes went by slowly, Etho collecting and sorting his weaponry and armour, enchanting and testing; it gave him time to think. When was the last time he’d done something like this? It must’ve been in Season Five, for he couldn’t remember being hired this season, since he’d opened Shade-E-E’s. However, his work beckoned him, so he equipped his elytra and took off instead of thinking about it too much.

Finally, Etho landed on the GOAT mountain, crouching down and pulling out a mirror, using it to look around the corner; from what he could see, Doc wasn’t nearby, but he wasn’t taking any chances. The German was certainly at his base, either in the house (half-house?) or down in the mines, so no precaution was enough. Stripping of his armour and tucking it into his inventory, he downed a pre-prepared invisibility potion, waiting to spot the faint particles before he began his descent down the mountain.

Overall, he wished he’d landed further down, since he’d already wasted a minute of his potion: it was only due to last for three minutes, so time was a big issue here. Turning and sprinting behind a corner, Etho winced at his poor time management, making sure his sword and armour were at hand and looking around. After a brief scanning of the area, he realised that Doc wasn’t near, which was both a blessing and a downfall. Sighing inwardly, he checked his potion duration: only thirty more seconds.

As soon as the effect faded, Etho grabbed his sword and was reaching for his chestplate when a sudden force knocked him against the wall. Regaining his breath and quickly arriving to his senses, he looked up, realising the familiar feeling of a sword being pressed against his neck, his hands pinned above his head.

“And what’re you doing here?” Doc’s gruff voice demanded, and Etho would’ve been intimidated if he weren’t on a mission. He would get those diamonds for Doc’s head, no matter how much deceit and combat it took.

“Just hunting food — I need pork.” The lie slipped from his tongue as easily as the truth, though he felt a pressing doubt against his skull when Doc raised an eyebrow.

“All the way out here? You’ve travelled far from home just for some pigs.” Doc commented accusingly, sending a shiver through Etho.

“My neighbours have taken them all from the nearby area,” Etho looked into Doc’s eyes, scanning them for any hint of emotion, where he found none — granted, one of them was robotic and the other was quite dead, but Etho was a good reader, “Y’know: Xisuma, Keralis, Wels.”

“Oh?” Doc clearly wasn’t believing the lies, but he entertained it anyway, which Etho despised, “Who sent you?”

“What do you mean?” An innocent smile, and a gaze that never wavered.

“Don’t think I’m oblivious. The overpowered armour, the empty potion bottle, the diamond sword?” Doc growled, his grip tightening on his own sword and on Etho’s wrists, “You were sent to kill me.”

“Me? No, no, you’ve got this all wrong. I’m not a bounty hunter anymore; I hung up my coat when we transferred to Season Seven.” Etho defended, examining Doc’s slight facial shifts with the precision of a serial killer, “I was hunting pigs. Had a PVP battle earlier today.”

“With who?” Doc pressed, hesitantly tucking away his sword and instead putting his hand beside Etho’s head, effectively trapping him.

“False.” Etho was about to continue, to make himself sound more convincing, when he took note of the odd position they were in: Doc pinning him against the back wall, his arms held above his head and their bodies _awfully_ close. Suddenly, he was far too aware of his own heartbeat and the thickness in his throat, swallowing and opting to stay silent. Anything he said could only be digging his own grave, and besides, he didn’t trust his voice.

“Why? We don’t usually PVP for no reason on the server.” Doc pointed out, while Etho was focusing all of his energy into not physically shivering at how close Doc’s voice was to his ear.

“Because...” Etho fumbled with his words, eyes darting around for some sort of escape. With Doc in front of him, his wrists pinned, and an arm trapping him on his left side — _don’t think about this position too hard, Etho_ — his right side was the least guarded. If he pulled off a certain manoeuvre, maybe kicked Doc’s legs from beneath him, he could make a break for it into the woodland. Or, he could attack...

“Because?” Doc prompted, yanking Etho from his scheming and tilting his head slightly. Etho, however, kept his mouth shut, keeping eye contact and sinking back into his thoughts. After a few more moments of the elongated silence, Etho shifted himself into a more optimal position, before jutting his leg out and swinging it around, catching Doc off-guard and making him slip, stumbling backwards and letting go of Etho.

Seizing the opportunity, Etho scrambled to pick up his resources, managing to grab his bow and arrow (the infinity enchant was a blessing) and a few scraps of armour before he was knocked away by Doc’s sword. Taking his practised fighting stance, Etho nocked his bow, not wasting the time to aim before he shot, hitting Doc in the shoulder and making him hiss in pain. Firing a sheave more arrows, he managed to hit Doc almost consistently, even as the German hurriedly ate a golden apple. 

Doc managed to fling Etho across the grass, metal clashing with wood as he was forcefully shoved back. Shouting a string of cusses, Etho lost his balance, sending him plummeting to the ground, his bow flying away from him. The sky slowly darkened, the only sources of light being the weak moonlight and the occasional lanterns and torches scattered around, illuminating them both in an orange light.

“Why are you doing this, Etho?!” Doc demanded, his sword still drawn threateningly while Etho cleared his foggy head, “We’ve had so much history!”

“You don’t understand..” Etho murmured, swiftly pulling himself back up and swiping his bow and arrow back, raising his voice, “It’s not like I want to do this!”

“Then why?!” Doc exclaimed, trying desperately to hide the hurt in his voice as Etho managed to grab his sword and lunged forward, attempting a hit which was easily blocked, “Did someone put you up to this?! Bdubs or Keralis? Some other Hermit I’ve had complications with?”

“I can’t tell you!” Etho snapped, ducking away from a harsh swing and steadying himself, “You can’t know!”

“Was it EX? Helsknight?” Doc wracked his brain for any others who may want him dead, and eventually, a forgotten memory resurfaced, deepening his scowl, “It was NPG, wasn’t it?!” Etho launched himself back at Doc, but was quickly reflected, his expression morphing to panic, which Doc took note of, “You don’t have to listen to him, Etho! You can fight it!”

Faltering, Etho loosened his grip on his sword, watching as Doc paused and did the same. Their stand-off lasted a minute or so before Doc pulled his arm back, throwing his sword across the garden and holding his arms out; Etho’s eyes widened slightly, but despite everything, he also ditched his sword, hesitantly stepping forward, glancing from his shoes to Doc. Shoulders relaxing, Doc met him in the middle, wrapping him in a gentle, but firm hug.

Etho melted into the physical contact — _when was the last time he’d hugged someone?_ — and wrapped his arms around Doc’s torso, resting his head on his chest and closing his eyes. Moments like these made Doc wish he could see what Etho was thinking as he traced circles and doodles onto his back, silently comforting the bounty hunter.

“You’re a good opponent..” Etho commented softly, voice hoarse and slightly muffled by the fabric of Doc’s lab coat, “We should fight again, soon. It was nice.”

“I agree, we should.” Doc nodded, before realising that Etho probably couldn’t see him. Slowly, surely, Etho lifted his head, facing Doc as best he could while still being pressed against him.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight, and I really shouldn’t have even considered killing you; I was just blinded by the riches. I’m sorry..” Etho apologised sincerely, eyes darting away occasionally, but always managing to find their way back to Doc. To prove his sincerity, he pulled his mask down, leaving it to hang around his neck.

“You Canadians, apologising for everything...” Doc chuckled under his breath, eyes softening, “It’s fine, you’re forgiven. At least no serious damage was caused.” Pausing, Doc’s eyes drifted from Etho’s mismatched eyes to his lips, before he realised what he was doing and quickly corrected himself. Etho giggled, his gaze not leaving Doc.

“Looking at my lips in a tempted manner? Doc-em-seventy-seven, I’m surprised at you!” He laughed at Doc’s flushing face, grinning mischievously.

“You’re far too observant for you own good.” Doc quipped, leaning closer to Etho teasingly, “Someone oughta’ teach you how to keep that mouth shut.”

“Well, there’s one very easy way to shut me up..” Etho hinted, also leaning in so they were only a few centimetres apart. Doc laughed under his breath, taking the hint and leaning even further.

Etho’s lips tasted like the biggest firework show ever. They tasted like a roaring fire and like a biting ice, like the daylight and the moonshine, like creation and destruction, like Spring and Autumn and like all of these things that were speeding through Doc’s mind too quickly for him to hold onto any of them. 

At first, there’s only the sensation, only the warmth spreading through his bloodstream like tiny pinpricks of stardust in his veins. But soon, slowly, he relaxed; every muscle, every molecule, every atom, _alive_ with an aching, burning instinct. Etho felt the walls he’d spent so long building up crumbled in a matter of seconds. He was free. The boundaries did not confine him.

The kiss deepened. Etho felt himself nearing the highest loop of the rollercoaster, its winding tracks swirling his mind. He was diving into the sea, full of light and laughter, swimming so deep that the world could never get to him. There was only Doc, floating there with him, when a sudden thought came to him:

_This is not right. This is not what he was hired for._

A warning bell rang; fear caught in his throat. He wasn’t flying, nor was he diving... Etho was falling, and he needed to catch himself. He pulled back, taking his arms from around Doc’s torso, who did the same, giving Etho his space.

“I’m sorry— That’s not—“ Etho stumbled over his words, cheeks coloured and hands still shaking from the adrenaline.

“It’s alright.” Etho looked up for the first time since they parted and saw Doc, a small smile on his warm face. His expression, his voice... Doc was steady. Doc was safe, “I was never— I mean— I wasn’t trying to— I—“ For a brief moment, their eyes locked, and the words fizzled out and died on his tongue. A flicker of a memory appeared to Etho; a line of Joe’s poetry he once read, about eyes being a window to the soul. When he looked into Doc’s eyes, he saw a place as deep, dark, and infinite as the sky and space itself. But what did Doc see when he looked into Etho’s? Love? Happiness? **Guilt**?

Etho felt a looming, heavy pressure settle on his chest. What had he done?

“You’re a strange one, birdie.” Doc mentioned playfully, still smiling.

“That makes me dangerous. That makes me lousy at my job.”

“No...” Doc shook his head, “That makes you human. That makes you beautiful.” The bliss spread through Etho again as Doc pressed a soft, comforting kiss to his lips. Etho closed his eyes.

And this time, he allowed himself to fall.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: the original ending for this had Etho stab Doc while they were hugging, but I decided against it!


End file.
